


Undercover: A Love Story

by London9Calling



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Arnold Schwarzenegger fandom?, Explicit Language, Furbies, Gangsters, Humor, M/M, Misunderstandings, Plot Twists, Police, Recreational Drug Use, Restaurants, Side Xiuhan if you squint, Slow Burn, Undercover Missions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-08 20:02:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12261150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/London9Calling/pseuds/London9Calling
Summary: Do Kyungsoo, mild-mannered detective, is given an offer he can't refuse, leading to an assignment as an undercover officer. Enter Park Chanyeol, AKA The Phoenix, a known gang associate with a very peculiar personality. Chanyeol is  an unwelcome complication that Kyungsoo isn’t certain he can *or wants* to handle.





	Undercover: A Love Story

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt # 336  
> Warnings as tagged  
> Notes: OP I hope you like it! It turned out more lighthearted than dark, hopefully that works for you :) Thank you to my betas, you deserve a basketful of puppies. Huge thanks to the mods bc you guys rock <33

****Kyungsoo squinted, trying to make out the picture in front of him. He had forgotten his reading glasses which was one of the many blunders he had made that morning (but by far the least serious).

“Real name is Chanyeol but most of the guys who frequent his place call him the Phoenix. Seems to be an inside joke.”  Baekhyun tapped his finger on the grainy black and white picture. “He owns a restaurant on Fifth and Vineland.”

The most serious blunder he had made that morning was being the only detective in the breakroom when Byun Baekhyun wandered in, eyes scanning for his newest prey.

The man in the picture looked fairly unremarkable, at least with what Kyungsoo could see of him. It was a surveillance picture taken at what appeared to be a party, judging by the attire. Some kind of rooftop shindig. He looked up from the picture, gently pushing it back towards Captain Byun. “So he owns a restaurant. Got it.”

Baekhyun turned the chair on the opposite end of the table around and straddled it, folding his arms over the back. “Yep. He owns a restaurant.” He looked at Kyungsoo expectantly.

“That’s what I said.” Kyungsoo could feel a lump forming in his throat. Captain Byun Baekhyun didn’t randomly call detectives into his office just for the fun of it. He wanted something.

“A little birdie called your personnel file and the rights-you-signed-away when you applied for this job told me you have a degree in culinary arts.” Baekhyun smiled brightly.

Kyungsoo nodded slowly, afraid he already knew what he was about to be asked.

“It just so happens Chanyeol is looking for a new chef and what do you know, Do Kyungsoo is more than willing to apply!”

Kyungsoo quickly shook his head. “It’s a culinary certificate. I’m not a chef!”

“Good enough to serve food to gangsters,” Baekhyun responded without missing a beat. “Time for your first undercover job, detective.”

Kyungsoo felt panicked. “I can’t–I–“ Surely his own boss didn’t agree to this?!

“Yunho already said yes,” Baekhyun blurted out. “So go home, get someone to watch your cat, and tell your family you can’t speak to them for the next….oh, I don’t know, possibly three years.”

“I can’t go undercover. I’ve never even worked on the gang squad. I investigate fraud. I spend ninety percent of my time at my desk–“

“Detective Do, your country needs you. _I_ need you.” Baekhyun had an amazing ability to shift gears. His stupid grin was replaced with the equivalent of puppy dog eyes. “This case will bring down the entire Five Star gang if we work it right. You’re the only one that can go in and play this part. It isn’t usual to have a junior detective who can cook. You won’t even have to infiltrate the gang, we already have a detective in deep cover for that. You just hang around the restaurant, plant a lot of listening devices and keep an eye out for anything interesting.”

Kyungsoo swallowed. He did want to help–but the assignment seemed daunting, far beyond his abilities. He had only recently been promoted to detective after working two years as a beat cop, barely seeing anything more salacious than a person jaywalking. He knew of the gang unit, he knew of the undercover operations, but never once had he considered himself suited for it.

“The psychological profile you took when you were hired indicates you would work well undercover. Basically you’re the perfect fit,” Baekhyun continued to list reasons why he had been selected. “And of course you would see a very large increase in pay.”

“I really am not suited for this.” Kyungsoo clung to his mundane desk job. He loved mundane. He breathed mundane. He absolutely did not want anything to do with working an undercover job with risks and danger and…

“Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun sighed. “I know you spend half of your day reading Zane Grey novels on your work computer.”

Kyungsoo blanched. But he had been so careful to obscure his screen. To always look busy. Sure he knew his internet history wouldn’t be invisible to the department but he had been doing it for so long he didn’t think anyone cared. Plus they were overstaffed in the fraud investigation department, and he finished all his work on time.

“If Yunho finds out about it you will likely receive a demotion. I’ve heard the only patrol route open right now is in the bad part of town. Of course if you accept this assignment everything will be wiped clean for you.”

Kyungsoo swallowed. _A demotion_. A decrease in pay. Patrolling a place that was crawling with drug dealers and violence. Or take the undercover job. “You’re blackmailing me.”

“No, I’m giving you a choice,” Baekhyun quickly responded. “Choose wisely.” Baekhyun flashed a charming smile.

Kyungsoo felt like running away.  


 

There was already a beer waiting for him when he slipped into the corner booth. In Sung had ordered Kyungsoo’s favorite, a full bodied ale.

“You’re late,” In Sung remarked, though his words didn’t hold anger.

“Traffic,” Kyungsoo explained.

In Sung hummed in acknowledgement. He took a sip of his beer and smacked his lips together.

They were meeting at the usual place, a hole-in-the-wall diner that served excellent and cheap food and never ran out of cold beer. It was closer to In Sung’s house than Kyungsoo’s apartment, but that didn’t really matter. Kyungsoo never minded travelling to see the older man; he was his mentor after all.

“Judging by your texts something happened at work,” In Sung remarked. A flicker of worry passed over his expression.

Kyungsoo exhaled sharply. Where to even begin? “Captain Byun wants me to transfer to undercover work. Some job in a restaurant, wiretapping, the whole thing. Five Star gang is involved.”

In Sung whistled. “Sounds serious.”

“It is,” Kyungsoo insisted. “And I’m not qualified for it. No way in hell should they put me in a job like that.”

“Don’t make excuses,” In Sung said pointedly, locking eyes with the younger detective. “You need to take chances, Kyungsoo.”

Somehow Kyungsoo knew this is what In Sung would say, how he would react. Deep down he had expected it even if he held onto hope In Sung would agree with him. It had always been this way. It was In Sung who had convinced him to join the police force, to go through the academy after a string of low paying restaurant jobs. He was a retired cop himself, with a storied career on the force.

“I like working at a desk,” Kyungsoo mumbled. Yeah, he liked boring. Being boring was safe.

In Sung sighed. “We both know you tend to hold back, it isn’t a secret. You’re comfortable, Soo. Time to step out of your comfort zone and try something new.”

Kyungsoo frowned. If he didn’t respect In Sung as much as he did he would argue with the man, but he knew In Sung had his best interests at heart. “I really don’t think I’m qualified though.”

“You can work at a restaurant; you have proven that though your skills might be a bit rusty. And you are good at talking to people even if you don’t think so.” It was true that their friendship had started when Kyungsoo had struck up a conversation with In Sung, the latter a patron at the restaurant Kyungsoo was working at. “I think you’d be great at it. Plus it doesn’t sound like deep cover, so the risks won’t be as great. It is a good introductory step.”

Kyungsoo picked up the bar napkin that was sitting on the table and began to pick at it. “If I don’t take the job I’ll probably get demoted,” he admitted. “Baekhyun knows I was reading on my work computer.”

“Zane Grey?” In Sung asked, knowing him far too well.

“Yeah.” Kyungsoo sighed.

“For someone who likes quiet you certainly enjoy action packed stories,” In Sung chuckled. “Just give it a shot, okay? You never know, you might like it.”

Kyungsoo highly doubted that but he would try it. Probably. He was leaning towards it. Maybe.

“Do it, you won’t regret it.” In Sung reached over and put his hand on Kyungsoo’s shoulder, giving him a comforting pat.

Kyungsoo nodded. Okay, he could do this. Probably.

 

 

“Alright, I’ll do it,” Kyungsoo sighed.

Baekhyun peeked up from the mountain of paperwork on his desk. “Huh?”

“The job, I’ll take it,” Kyungsoo repeated himself.

“Right, the job! Great. You don’t really have a cat though, do you? I mean if you need me to watch it...”

“No cat. And my family lives ten hours away so no need to worry about that too.”

“Great! Welcome to the wonderful world of undercover work, Detective Do.” Baekhyun flashed him a thumbs up.

Kyungsoo managed a weak smile, not yet convinced he wasn’t walking into his demise.

  


In the next three weeks Kyungsoo found himself secluded in an office near Baekhyun’s own. He spent his days memorizing the details of a fake life; a new birthday, a new set of schools he went to, and a fear of spiders he didn’t have. _A new name_. He would be Do Kangwoo now.

When he wasn’t trying to learn about this new version of himself he was memorizing the people he would soon call friends– _hopefully_ call friends according to Baekhyun.

The Phoenix, the man who ran the restaurant. The gangsters that ate most of their meals at the place, the associates that would join them. He memorized their faces from the top down. The highest ranking boss the police knew about, which he would probably never see, down to the soldiers who would more than likely pop in at least once a day.

He got to know Wu Yifan’s profile by heart, a fellow officer that was in deep cover at the higher rungs of the gang. “He’s the one that is going to recommend you for the job. He’s your old childhood friend, congrats,” Baekhyun had explained.

Of course a restaurant filled with gangsters wouldn't hire someone off the street, they needed to be recommended and recommended he would be. Kyungsoo was curious if every waiter, every dishwasher in the place had to come with a similar they’re-cool recommendation before starting. If so finding help must be a bitch.

In the evenings Kyungsoo went to the shooting range. It made him feel better–safer even, that he was still a good shot. He even practiced with a few photos from his undercover study files, but dare he say he felt awful pointing a gun at the Phoenix. He needed to be his friend, not shoot him.

He studied up on electronics, learned the ins and outs of the bugging devices that he would plant in the restaurant, the tiny device no bigger than a pen that he would carry with him at all times. He learned the code words to ask for help and the gestures to make if he was out in the open and required assistance.

He cycled through pictures of the restaurant–learned to swallow his horror that it was styled like a 1950s American diner, replete with records on the wall and red leather booths. He was more into black and white, grey when he was feeling adventurous. This place looked like the 1950s threw up on it–nothing about it seemed fitting for a group of gangsters. He considered he must really not understand the criminal mind if they liked to hang out in a place like this.

Near the end of the three weeks Kyungsoo made a call to his parents to let them know he was just put on a big project at work and wouldn’t be coming home anytime soon. They didn’t seem particularly upset about the news but then again they had never been the closest of family.

On the first of September Kyungsoo locked his apartment and handed the key to Baekhyun, who met him back at the station.

“You’ll do great,” Baekhyun smiled brightly at him, full of confidence Kyungsoo had yet to find.

 

 

Kyungsoo knew the layout of the restaurant by heart, he had stared at the schematics every night before he fell asleep. Still, memorizing a floor plan was a lot different than standing in front of the door to the place. He read the sign a few times, making sure it was the right place. _Happiness Delight_. Kyungsoo thought it was a stupid name for a restaurant.

Baekhyun had assured him that Yifan, codename Kris, had already talked to the owner so the man was expecting him.

Kyungsoo sucked in a deep breath and grabbed the door handle. His life would inevitably change the moment he stepped inside the restaurant. It wasn’t a simple action, it was a total change in his life, in his psyche, in––

Kyungsoo stumbled back, something hard colliding with his nose. He cried out and clutched at his face.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there,” a deep voice apologized profusely.

Kyungsoo felt a hand on his arm and jerked away. He winced in pain, it would be a miracle if his nose wasn’t broken.

“The door is tinted and I wasn’t paying attention and oh my god I am so sorry,” the deep voice continued to ramble.

Kyungsoo scrunched his nose up, relieved when the action only caused a slight burst of pain. He felt beneath his nose, no blood. “It’s fine,” he grumbled, moving his hand away.

A face was in front of his own the second he removed his hand, dark eyes fixated on his nose. He jumped back in surprise, almost losing his footing and falling over. He managed to maintain his balance, arms flailing out.

“Come inside, I’ll put an ice pack on it,” the deep-voiced man reached for his arm.

Kyungsoo angled away, trying to regain his composure. He took note of the person who had just hit him with the door–tall, curly hair dyed a faded purple, ears that stuck out. Bright eyes, youthful looking, unnaturally tall, way better looking in person than in the pictures. _Park Chanyeol,_ better known as Phoenix.

_Shit_. Kyungsoo bowed his head and began to blabber. “It’s fine, I should have seen you there, no worries. I really need to be more careful.” He needed this man to have a good first impression of him.

“No, no, I should have been more careful,” the man replied.

“No, it was my fault really,” Kyungsoo waved his hands out in front of him to dismiss Chanyeol’s protests. “Really. My fault.”

Chanyeol smiled sheepishly. “Okay, fine it is all your fault. But please come in and let me put ice on your nose so it doesn’t bruise.” He held the door open, gesturing for Kyungsoo to enter.

Kyungsoo swallowed, eying up the door for a split second before going through it. No matter how long he had spent preparing for the assignment it somehow seemed like it was happening too fast. Everything was finalized the moment his sneakered foot hit the black and white linoleum floor of _Happiness Delight_. The moment Chanyeol stepped inside after him. The moment Kyungsoo realized Chuck Berry was playing on the corner jukebox and he was faced with an indefinite time working in a restaurant decorated by someone who watched too many episodes of Happy Days.

“Right this way.” Chanyeol slipped past the black cashier's desk, padding into the dimly lit restaurant.

Kyungsoo cleared his throat, taking the initiative to say something. “Are you the owner?”

Chanyeol turned around. “Yep. Tis me.”

“My name is Kangwoo. I’m Kris’s friend,” he explained, proud that he kept his voice steady, that he sounded convincing.

“Oh! Right, Kris’s friend. That explains why you were standing in front of my door.” Chanyeol stalked up to Kyungsoo, extending his hand. “I’m Chanyeol but everyone calls me Phoenix. It’s nice to meet you.”

Kyungsoo offered a smile and grabbed Chanyeol’s hand, giving it a firm shake. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

Chanyeol’s hand was much bigger than his own. Warm. Soft. Kyungsoo looked away, removing his hand quickly. “I like the um–” he gestured towards the decor.

“Do you? Not many people do,” Chanyeol pursed his lips. “They say it’s too loud, whatever that means.”

“It’s great, I really like it.” Kyungsoo lied through his teeth.

Chanyeol grinned, exposing a row of pearly white teeth. Nothing about him fit the gangster stereotype, Kyungsoo thought.

They stared at each other awkwardly for a few seconds before Chanyeol snapped his fingers. “Ice pack. I can’t have my new chef broken _already_.” He turned around and hurried towards the kitchen, calling over his shoulder, “We can talk business after you ice your schnozzle.”

“My what…” Kyungsoo whispered, furrowing his brow at the weird lingo plus the words about being _broken already_. He walked over to a booth and sat down, the red leather deflating under him. He reached up and felt his nose, doing a double check to make sure it wasn’t broken. He would probably have a bruise but everything seemed intact.

Chanyeol returned holding up an ice pack, still sporting a smile. He slipped into the booth across from Kyungsoo and pushed the ice pack towards him.

“Thanks,” Kyungsoo mumbled, putting the ice pack on his nose.

“No problem.” Chanyeol stared at him, not saying anything. It was unnerving, awkward.

“Uh, about the job,” Kyungsoo took the initiative.

“Oh, right. Job. So Kris said you’re cool which means I don't have to worry about you narcing, or so he said. I mean you have all your fingers so you must not have pissed anyone off yet.”

Kyungsoo stifled the nervous laughter that bubbled up in his chest.

“It’s a pretty easy gig. Menu can be revamped, I have no problem if you change things as long as you let me try them first. I don’t cook so don’t expect me to do anything but tell you if stuff tastes okay. We’re open for dinner, lunch on the weekends but later any day if we need to be.” Chanyeol winked. “Your pay is part merchandise, part cash and if you do a good job selling on the side you’ll get a bigger cut.”

Kyungsoo internally swore. Baekhyun hadn’t said anything about him having to sell drugs as part of the gig.

“Busy days are random because our customers don’t have a predictable schedule, but I’m sure you know that. We have myself, another waiter, and a dishwasher, you’ll be the only cook.” Chanyeol looked thoughtful. “Ah, and check with me before you talk to the guys, I can tell you what not to do. So, still want the job?”

He didn’t have a choice. “Yeah, if you’ll have me.”

“Great, now about the part where you sleep with the owner–”

“What?!” Kyungsoo couldn’t help it, he blurted out his shock.

Chanyeol laughed. “It’s a joke. Calm down.”

Kyungsoo faked a smile. “Oh. Ha. Very funny.”

“Want to check out the kitchen?” Chanyeol asked, chuckling at his poor attempt at humor.

“Yes, please.” Kyungsoo needed to see his workspace to gauge just how big of a mess he was in (which was already a pretty big mess considering he was supposed to be selling merchandise, apparently).

“Right this way,” Chanyeol stood and gestured for Kyungsoo to follow.

  


The kitchen fit the greasy diner motif, right down to the flat top grill. How Baekhyun had referred to the job as a chef Kyungsoo would never know. Judging by the kitchen he was going to be no more than a line cook.  

“Can I see the menu?” Kyungsoo asked while checking out the drawers on the metal work table, getting a feel for where everything was.

Chanyeol slid a one page laminated menu across the table, Kyungsoo catching it before it fell to the floor. He scanned the page, unimpressed with the selection but grateful at the same time. He could make a burger, he could throw down some fries.

“We take special orders too,” Chanyeol explained. “For our loyal customers, if you know what I mean.”

Kyungsoo wasn’t sure he wanted to know what Chanyeol meant, but he grunted a response like he understood. Everything about the restaurant was unfailingly bizarre, from the tacky retro decor down to the simple menu. Maybe he had been too brainwashed by gangster films but none of it seemed to fit a place where hardened criminals would hang out, even if he knew from his time at the police academy that people were unpredictable, criminals were no exception.

“So what do you think?” Chanyeol asked, looking expectantly at his new cook.

“I like it,” Kyungsoo answered without sounding overly pleased, only just satisfied enough.

“Good.” Chanyeol beamed at him, looking far too pleased with himself.

The sound of the front door opening and closing drew Kyungsoo's attention to the dining room, which was obscured by a set of swinging double doors.

“Probably Sehun, he likes to be early,” Chanyeol muttered. “In here,” he shouted.

Kyungsoo mentally recited everything he knew about a person named Sehun, which wasn’t much. He was seen at the restaurant but didn’t seem to have much of a criminal connection, or at least if he did the police weren’t aware of it.

A lanky young man, arms covered in tattoos, stalked into the kitchen. He was wearing a tank top and shorts, his hair dyed a fuchsia pink. Kyungsoo unconsciously ran his hand through his hair, hoping the unusual hair colors were not some sort of requirement for working at the place.

“Sehun’s the dishwasher,” Chanyeol quickly explained. “This is our new cook, Kangwoo. He’s a friend of Kris.”

Sehun nodded his head. “‘Sup”

“Hi,” Kyungsoo replied lamely, stuffing his hands in his pockets in an instinctive defense mechanism.

“Sehun’s been working here since he dropped out of high school, though I think he was held back five years so it isn’t as bad as it sounds.”

Sehun delivered a punch to Chanyeol’s arm, the taller man yelping. “Hey, it’s true!”

Sehun scowled at his boss and brushed past him, not sparing Kyungsoo another glance. Kyungsoo had a feeling he was not going to be an easy guy to work with.

Trying to ease the awkwardness Kyungsoo cleared his throat and asked, “When do we open? You said dinner but what time?”

“Four, but that’s because we have some older guys that eat earlier than that,” Chanyeol answered, still rubbing the spot on his arm where Sehun had hit him. He looked over at the dirty metal clock that hung above the doors to the dining room. “So another hour, which means we have time for tea.”

“T..ea?” Kyungsoo wasn’t sure that he had heard him right.

“Yeah. My apartment is over the restaurant so if you are thirsty we could go enjoy some oolong together. If you want. I mean you don't have to if that’s weird or anything.” Chanyeol coughed nervously.

“He wants in your pants,” Sehun called from across the kitchen.

Kyungsoo’s face flamed red.

“Shut up brat! I do not!” Chanyeol protested, adding, “In your pants, I mean. I would like to drink tea though. If you want.”

“Okay,” Kyungsoo agreed, needing to get close to Chanyeol as quickly as possible for the sake of his assignment even if his face felt like fire and he kind of wanted to hide. “Tea would be nice.” What the hell, his day was already a string of bizarre occurrences, what was tea with a known gang associate an hour before opening a retro diner for a bunch of mobsters?!

 

 

“And here is where I keep my collection of Furbies, including the ultra-rare 1998 special edition royal Furby and Elvis Furby, both editions fetch upwards of five hundred dollars on the Furby collectors market.” Chanyeol stood in front of the glass case, pride shining in his eyes.

Kyungsoo sipped tea from a rose patterned teacup, eying up the case of strange stuffed...whatever a Furby was. “They’re like trolls,” he commented, remembering the furry haired toys his cousin used to play with when they were little.

Chanyeol gave him a dirty look. “What did you say?”

Kyungsoo panicked. He tried to think of how to respond but Chanyeol didn't give him a chance.

“Trolls are inferior to Furbies in every way. They have zero interactive abilities, they are ugly not cute, they are smaller than Furbies which makes them less desirable because as we all know bigger is better.” Chanyeol sucked in a deep breath. “Sorry, I’m really passionate about this topic.”

“Um, no need to apologize. I mean they’re cool, the _Furbies_.” Kyungsoo hoped he hadn’t blown his assignment due to his lack of knowledge in the toy department.

“Nah, it’s fine. We all make mistakes.” The smile returned to Chanyeol’s face.

Kyungsoo felt a wave of relief wash over him. In the five minutes he had been in Chanyeol’s apartment he had discerned three things.

Firstly, he had a lot of stuff. His place wasn’t horrible, there was plenty of room to walk. Still, display cases lined the walls. There were a lot of throw pillows, folded blankets, a few stacks of magazines and one of songbooks. A keyboard, a guitar on a stand. Lots of pans hanging on the wall in the kitchen. Just…lots of stuff.

Secondly, Chanyeol really liked to talk about what he was passionate about. From the moment Kyungsoo set foot in his apartment he had rambled on nonstop–about the tea, about his place, about the restaurant, about his Furbies. Kyungsoo didn’t think it would be difficult to gain information from the man because he never seemed to shut up.

Thirdly, he was zero percent like the mental image Kyungsoo had built of him–one that had been formed after reading a plethora of personal information about the man, staring at his picture for far too long, and learning everything he could about his life aside from his bathroom habits. The Chanyeol on paper was nothing like the clumsy, almost endearing man in front of him. Not to mention the pictures really didn’t do him justice….

“Enough about me,” Chanyeol acted bashful, clucking his tongue and moving over to the brown sofa in his living room. He tossed some of the pillows on the floor and patted the cushion. “Have a seat, tell me about _you_.” He flopped in the lime green armchair next to the sofa, seeming to remember the teacup he had set there a few minutes before.

Kyungsoo smiled and took a seat. He could do this; he had memorized it all. “Not much to say. I grew up in a middle class neighborhood, parents died when I was young so I went to a group home.” Chanyeol was staring at him, paying rapt attention to what he was saying. It was a little disorienting, Kyungsoo thought. Now that they were seated across from each other, the job talk done, he had time to really take in the features of his new employer. He was cute, very cute. “I ran away when I was fifteen and ended up meeting Kris. We worked together a little bit before I got a job that would pay me enough for an apartment. I’m not as good at Kris at some of the more complicated stuff.”

“You mean you can’t kill anyone?” Chanyeol asked innocently, sipping his steaming hot oolong.

“Nah. I never have. Or the business angle, I don’t get it.” Kyungsoo shrugged. “Wasn’t for me. I help him when he needs it but otherwise that’s about all there is to tell. Shitty jobs, good friends, shitty apartment.”

“Living the dream, just like me.” Chanyeol sighed. “You know, sometimes I wish I could just have one big sale, move all the merchandise and just close up shop. But I’d miss the guys, you know.”

“Yeah, I can imagine.” Kyungsoo actually couldn’t, especially the dream of selling a shitload of drugs to fund retirement, but details, details.

“So what do you do when you aren’t working?” Chanyeol downed the rest of his tea like it was liquor, holding the empty cup up before setting it back onto the dainty saucer.

“I shoot pool, play video games now and then.” At least he had been given clearance to have his actual hobbies, it made it a lot easier for him.

“I have a pool table out back if you want to play sometime.”

“Sure, that would be great.” Kyungsoo smiled, hoping he looked friendly and agreeable.

“You know, I think you’re going to be a great fit here,” Chanyeol and his perma-smile announced. “A really good fit.”

Kyungsoo felt a little better. Just a little.

 

 

“Cheeseburger with pepper jack and a medium rare steak, an order of bulgogi and seven bowls of rice.”

Kyungsoo stared at Chanyeol like he had grown a second head. Smoke rose from the flat top grill. The old rice maker Kyungsoo had found on the worktable shelf was already in use. He had four types of vegetables in half prepared states. The Everly Brothers were singing about dreaming somewhere out in the dining room, mingled with shouting and boisterous laughter.

Kyungsoo was pretty sure he would lose his mind.

“Okay,” he responded soullessly, wanting to pull his hair out and walk out the door, not necessarily in that order.

His apron was covered in sauces, and condiments, in grease and lord knows what. His face was dripping with sweat and he had long ago forgotten where in the hell half of the utensils he needed were kept. It was a disaster, an unmitigated disaster that he couldn’t run away from.

“You need help?”

Kyungsoo whirled around to see Sehun watching him, not looking distant or disinterested as he had for the most of the night.

“Yes, please.” Kyungsoo would take any help he could get at that moment.

“Too bad, I have a load of dishes that aren’t going to wash themselves.” Sehun turned, whistling a tune. He walked back to the far end of the kitchen, the alcove where the sink was, missing the death look Kyungsoo sent his way.

At this rate it would be a miracle if he was able to survive the night much less the next and the one after that. Chanyeol kept bringing orders and he was struggling to keep up, his dreams of being a line cook with a fairly easy job dashed into a million pieces. There was no way he would even have the energy to bug the place once he was done cooking, Baekhyun would just have to wait for a while.

Thirteen orders and two hours later Kyungsoo leaned against the worktable. There was a sudden reprieve, no more orders being shouted back to the kitchen, no more ridiculous requests. He gripped the edge of the steel table and took a few deep breaths, utterly exhausted.

“Hey buddy.”

Kyungsoo looked up to see Yifan–no, Kris–standing in the doorway to the kitchen. He was dressed in a three piece suit, looking a thousand times better than Kyungsoo looked or felt. At the sudden appearance of his “friend” Kyungsoo stood up straight and feigned a smile.

“Hey, didn’t know you were here.” He walked to his fellow undercover agent and held out his hand, giving him a half shake / half high five, a very stylish way to say hello, Kyungsoo thought.

“I have some people for you to meet.” Kris wasn’t asking, he was telling.

Kyungsoo nodded and trailed after him, self-conscious because he was drenched with sweat and grease and whatever else had landed on his apron while he was cooking two dozen different meals. Stepping through the double doors out into the dining room was disorienting. Gone was the smoke and heat, the dim lighting of the kitchen. It was replaced with the flashing neon lights of the jukebox, the bright ceiling lights, and the neon signs that hung on the walls. The sound of Sehun banging dishes together, the constant running water, morphed into laughter and boisterous conversations. While he walked he noticed a few Furbies sitting around the place.

Kyungsoo tried not to stare, tried not to meet anyone’s eyes. It was part of his training. A real gang associate wouldn’t gawk at the tattooed men who were taking up every other booth in the joint.

Kris led him to the corner booth near the jukebox. When Kyungsoo spotted the men sitting around the semi-circular booth his chest tightened–they looked important. They were older, dressed in designer suits with enough bling on their wrists and fingers to fund his entire college tuition. He recognized him from the information he had studied before going under cover. They were higher ups in the gang.

“Guys, this is the kid I was telling you about,” Kris drawled. Kyungsoo tried not to take offense to the moniker ‘kid’ considering he was only slightly younger than Kris.

“Phoenix's new puppy!” one of the older men shouted.

Okay, he could take offense to that. He wasn’t a puppy.

“Hey, hey. I thought I could give the introductions.” Like clockwork Chanyeol was there, slinging an arm over Kyungsoo’s shoulder in a show of familiarity–one that was wholly unearned. Kyungsoo didn’t shrug him off, however, knowing he needed to play it cool.

“I’ve known him since he was this high.” Kris gestured towards the table.

“He’s cool shit. He even likes my Furby collection,” Chanyeol interceded, earning laughs from the old guys.

Kyungsoo found some measure of relief in Chanyeol’s sarcastic comment, it eased the anxiety he was feeling.

“Those furry things, you gotta be kidding me,” one of the older men shook his head in disbelief.

“They’re better than trolls,” Kyungsoo said softly, surprised at himself. He felt Chanyeol’s arm tighten around his shoulder, a sign of camaraderie he assumed.

The man chuckled louder, slapping the table in amusement. “I like him.”

“You know how to use a knife?” one of the other men asked, keeping a straight face, apparently not a fan of Furbies, potentially a huge fan of troll dolls.

“I can julienne celery with my eyes closed,” Kyungsoo answered without missing a beat.

More laughter, more slapping of the table. He smirked, proud of himself. Maybe In Sung had been right, he really was good at talking to people.

“I really like him. Good one, Phoenix, good one.”

It seemed to be enough to satisfy Kris and Chanyeol, the latter steering Kyungsoo back to the kitchen after he said his goodbyes.

“You’re already a favorite,” Chanyeol whispered as they walked back towards the swinging double doors. “And they said you make one hell of a cheeseburger.”

Somehow, Kyungsoo thought, that was the best compliment he had ever received.

  


“I’ll drive you home. Where do you live?”

Kyungsoo looked up from where he was scrubbing the flat top grill. Sehun had long since disappeared, wandering into the dining room while he talked on his cell phone.

Chanyeol leaned against the work table, watching Kyungsoo.

“I live a few blocks from here, I can walk.” Kyungsoo scraped the brittle brush over the grill once more before setting it aside.

“It’s raining,” Chanyeol informed him.

Kyungsoo hadn’t been outside all evening, he had no idea.

“And it really isn’t a problem. I would feel bad if my chef had to walk home in a downpour.” Chanyeol seemed really insistent on giving Kyungsoo a ride.

“Okay, thanks,” Kyungsoo muttered. The truth was he had yet to see the new apartment Baekhyun had assured him was waiting for him. He knew how it was supposed to be laid out, the apartment number, all the important details, but he had never actually seen it.

It made him nervous to see it for the first time sitting in a car with Chanyeol, but he also didn’t want to walk home in the rain.

“I’ll be out counting the tills, find me when you’re ready,” Chanyeol instructed, disappearing back into the dining room.

Kyungsoo sighed and glanced around the kitchen. He still had to sweep and mop the floors. His back hurt and his feet were aching, he wasn’t used to standing all day. He had gotten too comfortable spending his days sitting at a desk.

He would need to adapt, to the aches and pains as well as everything else. He had a feeling it was going to be a painful process.

 

 

Chanyeol drove an emerald green Toyota that sounded like a flock of seagulls lived under the hood. It was banged up, a deep dent in the driver’s side door. “I ran into a cart at the store,” Chanyeol explained. The doors creaked when they were opened, sounding like a dying animal. The interior was ripped up and the radio played static. It seemed wholly unsuitable for a man who was associated with wealthy gangsters.

“It gets good gas mileage,” Chanyeol said, sensing Kyungsoo's confusion. “And I don’t go that many places, I mean I live and work at the same place so….”

Kyungsoo offered him a small smile, trying to ease the awkwardness. Chanyeol stopped offering up explanations, so Kyungsoo guessed it had worked. The restaurant owner began tapping on the steering wheel like a drum as he drove, humming a song that Kyungsoo couldn’t place.

The drive to Kyungsoo’s apartment was short, only two minutes maybe five if there was heavy traffic. It was a shabby tan brick building with outdated light fixtures and trim that screamed 1974.

“Thanks for the ride,” Kyungsoo reached for the door handle, ready to slink into his new apartment and rest his feet for as long as he could before he was forced to get back up. His day had been too hectic for his boredom loving personality.

Chanyeol seemed to have other ideas. He cleared his throat loudly. “Is it okay if I go upstairs with you?”

Kyungsoo froze, hand gripping the door handle. Go upstairs with him? That sounded all sorts of wrong and strange. He knew from Chanyeol’s profile that he liked guys, he didn’t make it a secret. Kyungsoo remembered the joke back at the restaurant about sleeping with the owner, and Sehun remarking Chanyeol wanted in his pants. Was he being propositioned?

“I have trouble sleeping and well,” Chanyeol rambled. “And you seem like a nice guy. Since we work together now I thought maybe we could play a video game or watch tv or something. If you don’t want to that’s fine. It is kind of rude to invite myself over.”

Kyungsoo considered the request. He didn’t want Chanyeol to come over, he was exhausted and on edge. He also didn’t want his new boss to get any strange ideas. “I’m not sleeping with you,” he said bluntly.

Chanyeol’s cheeks reddened. He waved his hands in front of him in a dismissive gesture. “What?! No, no I wasn’t asking that. I–no.”

Kyungsoo looked at the Phoenix, studied his mortified expression. He seemed harmless enough albeit with a bizarre personality. It was his job to get close to Chanyeol and he wanted nothing more than to be done with his undercover work. He ached all over and was constantly confused; he couldn’t wait for the assignment to be over.

“Sure,” Kyungsoo agreed, driven by his desire to escape the strange situation he had been thrust into. Befriend the Phoenix, do it quickly, and go back to his desk job. It sounded like a marvelous plan.

“Great.” Chanyeol flashed a big goofy smile, apparently pleased with Kyungsoo’s answer.

 

 

Chanyeol whistled, his eyes darting over the wall of pictures. “Man, I never would have taken you for an Arnold Schwarzenegger fanboy.”

Kyungsoo stared at the framed pictures. _Dozens of them_. The muscle man in all of his glory, smiling at the camera, arms flexed. He was going to kill Baekhyun.

“Yeah. I’m a big fan,” he said dryly, mentally tallying the multiple ways he could get back at Byun Baekhyun, half of them involving knives.

“Pump you up,” Chanyeol joked, mimicking an Austrian accent. “Do you lift weights too?”

“No,” Kyungsoo answered quickly, not wanting to give the restaurant owner the wrong idea. Sure, he worked out when he absolutely had to (like when he needed to meet a certain weight to get his job) but otherwise he steered clear of gyms.

“You know, you said your apartment was shitty but it isn’t that bad.” Chanyeol walked to the ugly pink sofa and patted the cushions before plopping down.

Kyungsoo could argue about how “not bad” the apartment was, but he held back. True, it wasn’t _absolutely_ terrible. He hadn’t seen any rats or bugs... _yet_.  The lights all worked and the faucet didn’t seem to be leaking.

There were cracks on the mustard color walls. The kitchen was straight out of 1979, maybe 1980 if he was being generous. His furniture looked like it had once belonged to a pack of stray cats and the curtains on the small windows were sun faded and thin. It was not at all like his own small apartment, clean but well kept up with nice furniture.

“So what game systems do you have?” Chanyeol asked, eying up the console television.

Right. He came over to hang out. Kyungsoo had no idea if Baekhyun had thrown him a bone in the form of a console, it was safer to steer clear of the topic. He glanced around the room, noticing a pack of playing cards sitting on the small bookshelf. “Wanna play cards?”

“Yeah. Sure.” Chanyeol seemed amicable with whatever Kyungsoo suggested.

Kyungsoo retrieved the deck and sat on the floor across from Chanyeol. A tan wicker coffee table sat between them, stained with what looked like juice and an unidentifiable liquid (Kyungsoo made a mental note to bleach the thing the first chance he got).

He shuffled the cards, trying to mimic what he had seen his mother do dozens of times growing up. He had never quite mastered the technique, which was evident when the cards flew to the left and right, scattering on the floor.

Chanyeol laughed, his deep voice echoing in the tiny apartment. “Let me.”

Kyungsoo pushed the cards his way, fighting a blush. He wasn’t very smooth, even In Sung couldn’t convince him of that.

Chanyeol shuffled the deck like a pro, the cards moving through his long fingers with ease. “What should we play? Blackjack, poker–”

“Go fish,” Kyungsoo blurted out the only game he remembered how to play. Yeah, he definitely wasn’t very smooth asking a gang associate to play go fish.

Chanyeol smiled, seeming not to mind. He dealt the cards, stopping when a knock sounded on the door.

Kyungsoo stilled, uncertain what to do. What if it was Baekhyun?! What if it was–

“Are you going to get it?” Chanyeol asked.

Kyungsoo nodded, standing and plodding towards the door. His heart was racing as he grabbed the doorknob, twisting it open to reveal…

“Howdy neighbor!” Pearly white teeth. A bowl cut. A plate full of brownies. A stupid looking striped shirt. “Welcome to the neighborhood. I live next door.”

Kyungsoo’s eyes went wide. No, no, he wasn’t supposed to have just moved in. This was bad. Kyungsoo stepped outside, forcing the man to take a step back or be knocked over. Kyungsoo shut the door quietly behind him, hoping Chanyeol hadn’t heard anything that would raise suspicions about how long Kyungsoo had lived there.

“Is this a bad time?” the man asked, the plate of brownies precariously balanced on his palm.

Kyungsoo nodded. “Yeah, kind of. I’m uh. Busy.”

“Sorry,” the man frowned. “I just wanted to be neighborly.”

Kyungsoo dragged his hand through his hair, a nervous habit. “It’s fine. Thanks.” He reached for the brownies.

The man held them back, maneuvering the plate out of reach. Kyungsoo narrowed his eyes at the man, confused at his actions.

“Name’s Junmyeon,” the man whispered, keeping the brownies away.

“I’m Kangwoo” he whispered back, utterly confused.

The man leaned in closer, his eyes shifting towards the end of the hallway, towards the stairs. “I’ve lived here for five years, Kangwoo.”

“O-okay.” Kyungsoo debated turning around and going back inside, this Junmyeon guy was freaking him out.

“Five years and no one has ever lived in your apartment until now. Do you know what that means?”

Kyungsoo shook his head, taking a step back towards the door.

“It means that your place is haunted,” Junmyeon whispered.

Kyungsoo reached for the doorknob but was stopped by Junmyeon’s loud laughter. “Sorry, sorry. Stupid joke, I know but I’ve been waiting forever to use it.” He giggled at his apparent use of humor, which Kyungsoo couldn’t begin to understand.

“Uh, ok. I need to be going now.” Kyungsoo’s hand was on the doorknob when Junmyeon pressed the plate of brownies into his side.

“Sorry, some people think I can be lame sometimes. Welcome to the neighborhood. If you need anything I’m in unit 207. And you can keep the plate if you want.” Junmyeon went from creepy to dorky in under five seconds, flashing a cheesy smile and stepping away once Kyungsoo took the plate. “See ya neighbor.”

Kyungsoo watched him walk back down the hall, still confused, still a little bit afraid of the man. He retreated back into his apartment, uncertain of what to make of his new neighbor.

“Who was that?” Chanyeol called from his place on the couch. The television was on now, a news program humming in the background.

“Uh, my neighbor,” Kyungsoo answered, staring at the plate of brownies.

“Is that food?” Chanyeol asked excitedly.

“Yeah.” Kyungsoo carried the plate to the coffee table, eyeing the baked goods with suspicion. What if they were poisoned?!

Chanyeol didn’t hesitate at all but then again he hadn’t talked to Mr. Weirdo McWeirdoson. He grabbed the biggest brownie on the plate and stuffed it in his mouth without a second thought, crumbs falling onto his white t-shirt.

“Mmm, it’s good,” he said through chews.

Kyungsoo returned to his place on the floor, wishing he had never agreed to have Chanyeol over. Creepy neighbor, mob associate, aching feet, tired back, no alone time––he was really earning his raise.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” Chanyeol asked, stuffing another brownie in his mouth.

Kyungsoo stared at him, looking for any signs of illness, or fast acting poison or sharp objects being embedded in the baked goods. Chanyeol didn’t seem to be poisoned…yet. Hesitantly he took a piece off a brownie and plopped it in his mouth. It tasted surprisingly good. Rich. Delicious. He found himself reaching for more, having forgotten how hungry he was.  


 

“Go fish,” Chanyeol said slowly, giggling and snorting.

Kyungsoo laughed, slapping his cards down on the table. He felt strange, light headed. Happy but tired. It had come on quickly, this strange feeling he couldn’t place.

“Your neighbor makes some awesome pot brownies,” Chanyeol remarked, sitting upright suddenly.

Kyungsoo stilled. _Pot brownies_. He had just ingested drugs. He had never done drugs before. He had never….

It was a herculean effort to stand, his arms and legs felt heavy. He wasn’t sure what to do, how to react, who to call.

“Dude, you okay?” Chanyeol asked, slumping back in the couch. He looked anything but concerned.

_I’m here for my job. So what if I just ate pot brownies given to me by this weird dude. So what. It’s part of my job. I need to do my job. I need to be friends with Phoenix and find information and get a big paycheck and make In Sung proud and…_

And…

He couldn’t remember the rest.

Kyungsoo sat back down, body relaxing, leaning back and supporting his weight with his palms flat against the floor. He stared at the wall of Arnold Schwarzenegger pictures, smirking at how ridiculous it all was.

“Hey, Kangwoo?”

“Yeah?” Kyungsoo suddenly found the edge of his t-shirt infinitely fascinating. He played with the hem, staring at the stitching. How did they get the stitching so straight…?

“If a Furby and a troll doll got into a fight a Furby would win,” Chanyeol said seriously. “It would grab that fucking horrible hair and tug it to the next trollville. You feel?”

Kyungsoo burst out laughing, somehow knowing it wasn’t that funny but yet it was freaking hilarious. Better than any comedian. “Yeah, I feel.”

Chanyeol laughed as well, holding his stomach as he doubled over with joy.

Kyungsoo couldn’t believe this was happening. He was working undercover, high with a guy who served gangsters for a living. Fuck. It was so strange.

Talking about Furbies no less. He hadn’t even known what a Furbies was twenty four hours ago. He shifted positions, bringing his knees up to his chest and hugging them.

“Kangwoo?” Chanyeol repeated.

Kyungsoo stared at the dingy carpeting, trying to figure out the last Arnold Schwarzenegger movie he had watched. Was it Total Recall or Kindergarten Cop? Maybe it was Predator…

“Kangwoo?”

“Kangwoo?”

“Kangwoo?”

“What?” Kyungsoo finally responded, lifting his head to look at the restaurant owner. He swallowed at the sight, chalking the warmth he felt in his chest to the drugs. Chanyeol looked so soft, slumped back on the ugly sofa, limbs relaxed and a smile on his face.

“You want to have tea tomorrow before work?” Chanyeol asked.

Kyungsoo nodded. Oolong tea was nice, no matter how bizarre it was.

Chanyeol grinned. “Can I sleep on your couch?”

Kyungsoo bit back his instinctual answer, which was no. He couldn’t rightfully send someone under the influence of drugs out driving “Of course,” he answered.

He stared at the tall man across from him, and maybe it was the haze of drugs that made him suddenly admire how attractive Chanyeol was. He was downright hot, in a kind of goofy, dorky way. Kyungsoo smiled at nothing, then went back to playing with the hem of his shirt.

Undercover work was seriously not worth the pay, he decided. He hadn’t been alone all evening, he didn’t have time to catch his breath. Hell, he had done more in twelve hours than he liked to do in a week. This job was not his style.

 

 

Kyungsoo rolled over, stretching his arms out and arching his back. He opened his eyes, blinking in confusion. It took him a few seconds to realize where he was–his “apartment”. Ugly pink bedspread, Arnold Schwarzenegger poster on the wall. Cheap white dresser that was falling apart.

Shit. It was day two of his undercover work, and he had already had enough for a lifetime. Weird neighbor delivering pot laced brownies, strange 50s themed gangster diner, a boss obsessed with creepy stuffed toys called... fur-something. A bed full of potato chip crumbs via his late night pig-out fueled by the drugs. He would give Baekhyun an earful when he could. When was Baekhyun going to contact him, anyway?

Kyungsoo rolled over, sighing. When his arm collided with something hard, something most definitely human, he cried out.

“Sorry!” Chanyeol bolted upright in bed, eyes wide, hair wild.

“What in the fuck?!” Kyungsoo pulled the blankets up. He was dressed in a t-shirt and pajama bottoms but he suddenly felt exposed.

Chanyeol looked around the room, seemingly as confused as Kyungsoo. After a few seconds he spoke. “I must have wandered in here. I–”

“What the fuck? Seriously.” Kyungsoo swallowed, chest tightening. Chanyeol looked…he looked...really hot. He tossed the blanket aside and stomped from the room, uncomfortable with what he was feeling.

“You smell nice,” Chanyeol called after him, apparently completely comfortable that he had crawled into his new chef’s bed the night before.

Kyungsoo ignored him, stalking to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth. He paused in front of the mirror, staring at the circles under his eyes. He looked like shit and he didn’t feel much better. And he was convinced he probably didn’t smell nice, Chanyeol was a criminal and a liar.  


 

Chanyeol did eventually apologize for ending up in bed next to Kyungsoo, but he seemed to do it more to put Kyungsoo at ease than to reconcile any guilt he was feeling. Kyungsoo muttered an “apology accepted”, ready to put the strange night behind him.

Chanyeol drove back to the restaurant after chowing down on the box of Lucky Charms he found in Kyungsoo’s cupboard. Once he was gone Kyungsoo went about exploring his new abode, checking out all the cupboards and panic cleaning what he could.

He had a rag in hand, attempting to disinfect the coffee table, when he was scared shitless.

“Drugs are illegal.”

Kyungsoo jumped back, ready to punch whoever had dared sneak into his apartment. He had his fist raised, rag having fallen to the floor, when Baekhyun burst out laughing.

“Oh man, this is great.” Baekhyun wiped a stray tear, his face red with joy. “I knew you would fit right in with this crew.”

Kyungsoo had the desire to pounce on the police captain and pummel him–for the Arnold Schwarzenegger pictures and for walking into his apartment without knocking. “Isn’t it dangerous for you to just show up here?” he hissed. “Isn’t it supposed to be a secret that I’m a cop?!”

Kyungsoo bent down and retrieved the rag, clenching it in his hand tightly.

Baekhyun finally stopped laughing but he still wore a smile. “Don’t worry, the entire place is bugged. I wouldn’t be here if there was a chance someone would discover it.”

“Bugged?!” Kyungsoo whirled around, looking at the furniture, the walls.

“We have cameras, microphones. Made for some entertaining surveillance work last night,” Baekhyun chuckled. “Go Fish. Really?”

Kyungsoo glared. “I never agreed to have my apartment bugged.”

“It isn’t your apartment, it belongs to the department,” Baekhyun reminded him. “And it is for your own safety that we have it rigged. If we didn’t you might end up with a bullet between the eyes and we would never have time to rescue you.”

“Fine. But what in the hell is with the Schwarzenegger pictures? And you didn’t tell me the Phoenix was pushing drugs?!”

“You seem like the Schwarzenegger type,” Baekhyun shrugged. “And Chanyeol isn’t pushing drugs, or at least if he is we haven’t heard about it. Thanks for the info, we’ll follow up. See, already productive and you haven’t even been on the job twenty four hours.”

Kyungsoo tossed the rag onto the coffee table in frustration. He sat down on the sofa, trying very hard to control his temper. “The restaurant is insane,” he vented, clasping his hands together tightly. “No order to anything. The owner drinks oolong tea and is obsessed with Furbies. What in the fuck is going on?”

Baekhyun took a seat next to Kyungsoo. “Phoenix is a different kind of guy, you knew that from his profile.”

“I knew that he owned a restaurant that gangsters frequent, not that he lets people order anything they want while he pets weird 90s toys,” Kyungsoo shot back.

Baekhyun sighed. “Hey, he seems to like and trust you. Just get along with him and get him to tell you stuff. Plant the bugs and gather some more information from the customers. Your job will be over before you know it.”

Kyungsoo worried his bottom lip. “How long?”

“Yifan has already built a really solid case up but we need more,” Baekhyun admitted. “The listening devices you plant will probably give us the last bits we need to take this to the prosecutors. No one will ever suspect the diner is bugged, they talk freely there.”

“I met the higher ups last night. Maybe even the boss,” Kyungsoo said slowly, remembering the older guys he was introduced to the night before.

“I doubt that. We have yet to meet the guy running the show, which is why this job is so important.”

“You don’t even know who the boss is?” Kyungsoo asked in disbelief. Back when he had studied the profiles of the gang he hadn’t been given the one for the gang leader, but he assumed that was because Baekhyun thought their paths would never cross.

“No. The Five Star Gang is notoriously good at keeping that a secret. Even Yifan hasn’t met him, or if he has he wasn’t identified as the big guy. That is where your work comes in. We’re hoping that in the false safety of the diner they will reveal who it is.”

Kyungsoo swallowed. Shit, his job was even more important than he had originally thought. But there was one thing bothering him. “Why haven’t you had Yifan bug the place?” It seemed easy enough. Yifan was an experienced undercover officer, he could probably pull it off no problem.

“The Phoenix. He is notoriously vigilant, watches the customers like a hawk. He would notice if Kris did something strange.”

“But not if I did?”

“Exactly. As long as he trusts you he won’t think too much about it if you wander around the place. It’s your job, right?”

Kyungsoo nodded.

“You need to plant one of the devices in his apartment,” Baekhyun informed him, taking Kyungsoo by surprise. “He doesn’t let many people up there but there’s a chance some of the gangsters use it from time to time for meetings.”

Kyungsoo tensed. Bug Chanyeol’s apartment? Bug Furbyville?!

“Keep calm. You have the entire department behind you.” Baekhyun patted Kyungsoo on the shoulder before standing. “I’ll be in touch.” He walked towards the door, stopping after a few steps. Turning back with a smile he added, “Nice Arnold pictures.”

Kyungsoo picked up the rag and hurtled it at the retreating police captain, cursing under his breath.

 

 

Kyungsoo dressed for work a half an hour after Baekhyun left, bemoaning his lack of free time, sighing that it was already time to go back to 1950s gangster-land. He grabbed the black backpack that Baekhyun had left at the apartment, it held the bugs he needed to plant.

When Kyungsoo stepped out into the hall he caught sight of Junmyeon walking towards the steps. He glared at his back. The nerve of his neighbor. He had a mind to call him out for the pot laced brownies but when Kyungsoo got to the first floor his neighbor was nowhere to be found.

He stuffed his hands in his pocket and stepped out onto the street, happy it was sunny, not a cloud in the sky–the threat of rain nonexistent.

The walk to the restaurant was a breeze, at least Baekhyun had given him a place to live close to the restaurant.  He hoped that when he got to work the place would be deserted save for Chanyeol, who would probably be busy rearranging his Furby collection while making tea or something. All Kyungsoo needed was a half an hour to plant the bugs so his job could really begin.

A half an hour was all he needed.

 

 

“You really think this is a good idea?” Sehun drawled. “You’re going to ruin the merchandise.”

Kyungsoo stood in the entryway to the kitchen, mouth going slack jawed at the scene he had just walked into.

Sehun was leaning against the work table, arms folded against his chest. A tall, thin boy that Kyungsoo had never met was standing next to him, looking afraid. Chanyeol was standing by the walk in freezer, a can of spray paint in hand.

“Yeah, I do think it is a good idea,” Chanyeol shot back, pressing down the top of the spray paint, a stream of bright purple paint landing on the metallic door. Fumes rose up, causing Chanyeol to cough and step back, waving his hand in front of his face.

Sehun glanced at the doorway, finally noticing Kyungsoo’s presence. “Hey shorty, you here to party till the sun down?”

“What does that even mean?” the man next to him asked, shaking his head.

Sehun shrugged.

“What are you doing?” Kyungsoo asked, tightening his hold on the backpack strap as he stepped into the kitchen.

“Oh, hey, Kangwoo.” Chanyeol hacked once more before setting the spray paint on the work table. “I was decorating. Thought you might get bored if the kitchen was all metal-y and stuff since your apartment is so...you know, bright. I was going to paint Arnold for you.”

“He’s trying to destroy the kitchen,” Sehun interjected. “Don’t you feel blessed?”

“Are you the new chef?” The tall boy stepped forward, eyeing Kyungsoo up and down.

Kyungsoo nodded.

“I’m Jongin, the waiter. Or the only competent waiter here, I should say.” He flashed a wide grin, looking even younger when he smiled. Kyungsoo wondered if he was even out of high school and if not what he was doing working at a place frequented by criminals.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Kangwoo.”  He nodded in greeting before turning his attention back to Chanyeol, who was still gripping the spray paint can, his cheeks red from coughing. “You don’t need to decorate. Spray paint around heat is bad, fire and all.”

“You telling the Phoenix about fire safety,” Sehun snorted. “How do you think he got the nickname?”

Kyungsoo tensed. Was Chanyeol an arsonist?!

“He had to completely remodel the kitchen twice after he started fires while cooking, and that was only last year,” Jongin explained, sensing Kyungsoo’s confusion. “Why do you think he is no longer able to cook?” He chuckled.

Chanyeol looked embarrassed. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“You almost burnt down the building,” Sehun reminded him. “And your house. So yeah, it was that bad.”

“Hey, Kangwoo, still want tea?” Chanyeol asked loudly, changing the topic to something less embarrassing.

“He’s trying to get in his pants,” Sehun whispered to Jongin, loud enough for everyone in the small space to hear.

Chanyeol glared at the dishwasher before turning a friendly smile on Kyungsoo.

“Sure,” Kyungsoo agreed, realizing he wasn’t going to have time to plant the listening devices in the restaurant with the bratty dishwasher and the waiter hanging out. “I’d love too.”

Now he just had to plant one in Chanyeol’s apartment without him noticing. Great.

 

 

Chanyeol’s tea was seriously amazing. Kyungsoo admired the taste and considered asking him how he made it.

They sat in Chanyeol’s living room, Kyungsoo on the couch and Chanyeol on the lime green chair, a guitar on his lap. He was strumming a song Kyungsoo didn’t recognize.

Kyungsoo glanced at his backpack which was lying in the corner of the room. The listening devices were nondescript. If anyone found them in his backpack they wouldn’t know what they were. He shouldn’t be as nervous as he was but he couldn’t help it. He had to think of a way to get Chanyeol out of the apartment or at least distracted to the point he wouldn’t notice Kyungsoo planting one of the devices.

“You thought of any menu changes?” Chanyeol asked, swiping his thumb over the guitar strings.

“No.” Kyungsoo hadn’t thought about menu changes, not when he had quickly realized there was no menu to begin with. Only special orders that he couldn’t refuse.

“Do you like the job so far?”

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo lied through his teeth.

“Good. Because I like you. I mean,” Chanyeol froze, looking like a deer in the headlights. “I-I-”

Kyungsoo smirked. The oddity that was the Phoenix was kind of cute. Kind of. If he wasn’t who he was, that is. “You mean..?” he teased.

“I like you as an employee!” Chanyeol quirkily corrected, setting the guitar aside. “And your neighbor makes awesome pot brownies.”

Kyungsoo internally cringed at the mention of the brownies. He was still mortified he had done drugs. “Thanks,” he mumbled, raising the teacup to his lips.

Chanyeol cleared his throat. “There’s a party tonight for one of the regulars. It’s his birthday so if you could make a cake before we open that would be great.”

Kyungsoo had a strong desire to throw the tea cup in his hand but he held back. “Of course,” he replied through gritted teeth. Of course he could just whip up a cake. Did they even have the ingredients?! It was a ridiculous request.

Chanyeol strummed on the guitar a couple more times before putting it down, leaning the instrument against the sofa. When he leaned forward his oversized shirt shifted, giving Kyungsoo a nice view of his collar bones. Kyungsoo swallowed and looked away, not at all pleased with the warmth that spread in his gut at the sight.

Since when was he so horny? Sure he hadn’t been with anyone for a couple years, ever since that short disastrous relationship he had with Jongdae (they really weren’t compatible no matter how good the sex was).

“What do you like about Arnold Schwarzenegger, any ways?” Chanyeol questioned, slumping back in his chair. “Are you into muscular guys?”

Kyungsoo sipped on the tea, mentally cursing out Baekhyun for the umpteenth time. “Yeah,” he lied, not really having a preference for muscular guys but grasping for a reason to have a wall of Arnold pictures back at his apartment. He watched Chanyeol frown at his words, then squeeze his upper arm like he was checking on his own muscle mass.

Chanyeol stood suddenly. “Be right back, bathroom,” he rattled off.

Kyungsoo set the teacup down as soon as Chanyeol’s back was turned. It was his chance. He waited until he heard the bathroom door close before he grabbed the backpack, unzipping it slowly and fishing out one of the devices. He glanced around the room. Where to plant it…where to plant it…where….

Furby. Kyungsoo spied one of the creepy stuffed toys. He rushed over and picked the toy up, examining it. There was a battery slot on the bottom, perfect. He pushed the miniscule chip inside, setting the toy down carefully.

His heart was racing as he sat back down. He had done it. He had successfully planted one of the devices without being caught. He was finally getting somewhere.

“Hey, Kangwoo?” Chanyeol yelled from the restroom.

Kyungsoo froze. Had he heard? Did he have x-ray vision that was activated whenever someone touched one of his precious Furbies?!

“I need toilet paper. It’s in the dresser by the door. Can you get me some?” Chanyeol shouted.

Kyungsoo breathed a sigh of relief. “Yeah. Hold on.”

He had really done it. And honestly it felt great.  


 

Chanyeol nudged him in the ribs. Leaning over he whispered, “He’s a weird dude.”

Kyungsoo thought that was an understatement. It was almost midnight, the restaurant was packed. He had spent the first few hours after they opened (post whipping together a birthday cake) making dinner after dinner, stressed and disgruntled. Just like the night before the orders finally slowed to a halt, giving him time to breath. Unlike the night before the place didn’t die down.

He had started cleaning up where he could when Chanyeol had fetched him from the kitchen. “You gotta see this, you won’t regret it. I promise,” Chanyeol had informed him, grinning from ear to ear.

Kyungsoo had wiped the sweat from his brow and tossed his apron on the counter before venturing into the restaurant. Elvis was singing on the jukebox when he walked in, but that was by far the least distracting element of the place.

A man stood on one of the tables, a microphone in hand. He was thin, with hair dyed blonde, youthful features and a long neck. He smiled and laughed, his jaw almost looking dislocated when he did so.

“He’s the son of that guy,” Chanyeol whispered, nodding towards an older man in a designer suit. “Rising up in the group.”

“Is it his birthday?” Kyungsoo whispered back. Chanyeol nodded.

“Time for a serenade for my favorite strongman. Minseok, come up here,” the man announced, grinning cheekily.

“Oh god, he’s really doing it,” Chanyeol muttered.

Kyungsoo watched as the crowd of gangsters shifted, a short guy with shaggy black hair stepping forward. “Lu Han, I swear to god if you don’t get down from there.”

“Minseok baby, you complete me. Minseokkkkk,” he slurred, obviously drunk.

Kyungsoo felt an extreme case of second hand embarrassment for the man.

“Sweet Minseok bam bam bam,” Lu Han sang, parodying the Neil Diamond song with the wrong key, his voice cracking.

“Get down from there or I will cut you!” the black haired man shouted.

Some of the gangsters laughed. Kyungsoo glanced at the man Chanyeol had said was Lu Han’s father and noticed he was smiling.

“I may be thirty today but all I want for my birthday is to ask for this beautiful man to marry me,” Lu Han crooned.

Kyungsoo was perplexed. Gangsters that hung out in a cheesy diner, laughing when one of their sons proposed to his boyfriend. Nothing like the movies, not even a little bit.

What was like the movies was the knife that went sailing through the air, lodging in the wall behind Lu Han. The birthday boy didn’t even flinch, he kept crooning into the microphone. Minseok had his hand raised, another throwing knife ready to fire.

Kyungsoo was worried that this one might hit the mark and he would be subjected to his first murder. No one else seemed particularly worried, they kept laughing or jeering good naturedly.

“Get down you loser,” Sehun yelled from somewhere in the crowd. Kyungsoo glanced over to see the dishwasher approach Lu Han, shaking his head. “He’ll kill you, dumbass.”

Lu Han weakly protested while Sehun grabbed the mic away and pushed him off the table. Kyungsoo observed the other gangsters, who didn’t seem bothered by Sehun’s interference.

“Awww, I really wanted to see him take a knife to the arm,” Chanyeol whispered to Kyungsoo, obviously disappointed.

Kyungsoo swallowed. “I’m glad he won’t. I don’t like blood,” he murmured before turning around and walking back to the kitchen.

 

 

It was four in the morning when Kyungsoo fell onto Chanyeol’s couch. He was drunk, which was entirely Chanyeol’s fault, he decided.

After returning to the kitchen post-weird-dude-confession-and-knife-throwing the restaurant owner had wandered in, looking regretful.

“What I said about the knife, I’m not like violent or anything,” Chanyeol tried to explain. Kyungsoo was back to cleaning, not paying any attention to the Phoenix.

Kyungsoo wanted to reply “ _You hang out with a bunch of gangsters, of course you’re violent_ ,” but he couldn’t. Instead he answered with a quick, “Ok.”

“Hey, do you want a beer?” Chanyeol asked, his voice peppy.

“No. I was going to leave soon unless you needed me to do anything else.” Kyungsoo had already stayed too long, cleaning and cleaning some more. Mentally his excuse was that he needed to stay in case he had a chance to overhear anything useful. There were also the listening devices in his backpack that he had hoped to plant once the place cleared out.

“I um, yeah. Can you stay and um, uh…help me um…”

“Help you what?” Kyungsoo finally looked at him.

“Clean up the restaurant! When the guys leave. They should be going soon,” Chanyeol blurted out. “But have this first, since you’re staying longer and shit.” He held the beer out.

Kyungsoo looked at the bottle. He was tired and in a bad mood, he didn't really feel like having a beer. He grabbed it anyway, not looking forward to working for a few more hours. “Thanks,” he answered, taking a swig.

One swig ended up being five beers by the time the restaurant was cleared out and dark. Kyungsoo had to admit the light buzz helped him bear the extra work of cleaning up after a bunch of rowdy gangsters.

“Where is Sehun and Jongin?” Kyungsoo asked at one point, feeling like they should have been helping.

“I have no idea. They’re terrible employees,” Chanyeol admitted.

It was a little after three when they finished cleaning. They had sat and drank another beer before Chanyeol made the offer. “If you want to sleep on my couch go for it, it’s late.”

Kyungsoo fidgeted at the suggestion. It was late, he was tired and drunk. He didn’t really want to walk home but he also wanted some alone time. He was bristling under the weight of having no time for himself.

“I’ll let you pet my favorite Furby.” Chanyeol winked.

Kyungsoo almost spit out his beer. “You are so weird.”

“I know. And you are too, otherwise you wouldn’t have agreed to work here or play Go Fish with me. Better to be weird together instead of alone, right.”

Kyungsoo stared at Chanyeol, considering the words that sounded way too serious for that time of the night, for their state of sobriety. “Are you hitting on me?”

“What?! N-no!” Chanyeol protested, not very convincing.

“Good. Then yeah, I’ll sleep on your couch.” His aching body and tiredness swayed him in the end.

Chanyeol smiled widely, pleased with his agreement.

 

 

_Better to be weird together than weird alone, right_? Kyungsoo had thought about it while he laid on Chanyeol’s couch, drifting off to sleep. Nah, being weird alone was much better, Kyungsoo reminded himself. Mundane. Boring weirdness, not knife throwing, gangster, socializing weirdness.

It was ten in the morning when Kyungsoo woke up. He could hear Chanyeol snoring from the other room, he sounded like a wounded animal. Kyungsoo chuckled as he stood, stretching his arms out and turning to each side to crack his back.

He made sure he was quiet as he retrieved his backpack and crept out of the apartment. The restaurant was dark, deserted–it was the perfect time to plant the listening devices.

Kyungsoo switched on the lights to the kitchen and made a sweep of the room with his eyes. He determined the best places to plant the bugs, referencing the instructions Baekhyun had given him prior to going undercover.

Once he was done in the kitchen he moved to the dining room. He knew he had to bug the corner booth where he had met the older gangsters, the guys who seemed higher up in the gang. He planted the device quickly before moving on to hide the other devices sporadically around the room.

When he was finished he carefully left through the front door, feeling an immense sense of accomplishment.  


 

“Pay day!” Chanyeol announced cheerfully, popping into the kitchen, the swinging door banging hard against the frame.

It had been three days since Kyungsoo had planted the devices. In that time he had spent almost every night after work hanging out with Chanyeol, watching stupid tv shows or discussing the merits of Broadway musicals (which Kyungsoo was very surprised to know Chanyeol adored). Every time Kyungsoo told himself he should just go home and spend the evening reading he ended up convincing himself he spend it with Chanyeol instead. For his job.

“Half in merch, half in cash,” Chanyeol sing-songed, tossing an envelope down on the work table in front of Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo eyed the white envelope for a second before opening it, nervous. He pulled out a Furby themed check (seriously where did someone even find something like that), noting the dollar amount. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

“And the merchandise is in here, follow me,” Chanyeol instructed, waving his hand for Kyungsoo to trail after him to one of the back storerooms.

Kyungsoo swallowed, heart rate increasing. Drugs. He was going to be given drugs. What in the hell was he going to do with a bunch of drugs?! He would be mortified to handle them, and Chanyeol would expect him to take them home and and and…

Chanyeol undid the lock on the door and threw it open, revealing a room full of…

“Barbeque sauce,” Kyungsoo said dumbly, not believing his eyes.

Shelf after shelf of BBQ sauce. _Phoenix’s Best_ written on the label.

“You put drugs in barbeque sauce?!” Kyungsoo asked, looking at Chanyeol in horror.

“Drugs? What, no!” Chanyeol walked into the room. “It’s regular BBQ sauce. My special recipe. Or _was_ , I um kind of burnt down the kitchen making the last batch and barely saved this. It’s all I have which makes it more valuable considering I am not going to try to make it again because you know, _fire_. You would be surprised how many people ask for it. You can make good money selling it online or to some of our customers, if you beat me to it that is.”

Kyungsoo didn’t know what to say. BBQ sauce. The Phoenix was pushing BBQ sauce.

“It really does taste good,” Sehun sidled up. “Pretty much the only thing he’s ever done right.”

Chanyeol glared at the dishwasher. Sehun just laughed and wandered back to the kitchen, leaving Kyungsoo to bask in his own confusion.

  


“He isn't selling drugs,” Kyungsoo reported, still immensely relieved (though his back hated him for hauling out three cases of BBQ sauce in payment).

“Good to know,” Baekhyun said.

Kyungsoo licked the ice cream cone he was holding. Baekhyun had left him a message to meet at a park across town to discuss the case. When Kyungsoo arrived Baekhyun handed him the cone, looking far too cheerful for Kyungsoo’s current mood (he was completely exhausted).

For some reason sharing the fact that his earlier assumption was wrong, that Chanyeol wasn’t selling drugs, made him feel relieved. Better. Strangely so. “Have there been any breakthroughs is the case?” Kyungsoo asked, hopeful.

“Unfortunately no.” It had been a week since Kyungsoo had finished planting the listening devices. “Yifan has some new information but it isn’t enough. Nothing from your wiretaps.”

Kyungsoo sighed.

“Hang in there, Detective Do.” Baekhyun patted him on the back once more before leaving.

  


Kyungsoo tried his best to listen, but it was difficult given the volume of the jukebox in the dining room and the constant noise of water running in the sink. Sehun had been on his phone non-stop since he arrived at the restaurant, sounding more I-don’t-give-a-fuck than usual (judging by his raised voice).

Kyungsoo couldn’t make out anything the younger man was saying, which was annoying him. He was looking forward to free entertainment via the dishwasher’s personal life. The restaurant was slow, hardly a gangster in sight. For once he was actually bored.

He took a step closer, pretending to rearrange one of the drawers full of cooking utensils.

“I can’t believe you-”

“Kangwoo!” Chanyeol interrupted Kyungsoo’s first real success at listening, striding into the kitchen smiling...and not wearing a shirt. “I’ve been working out.” He lifted his arm and flexed.

Kyungsoo stared dumbly at Chanyeol, not sure what to say. He wasn’t as scrawny as Kyungsoo had assumed, but he wasn’t exactly muscular either. He did have some muscles, but it was nothing to write home about. Still, Kyungsoo felt heat creep to his cheeks at the sight, at the width of Chanyeol's shoulders. He swallowed, his mind betraying him by going places he really shouldn't be going. Like biting, and licking and…

“ _Now_ do you believe he wants to get in your pants?” Sehun said dryly. Kyungsoo hadn’t even noticed Sehun was no longer on the phone.

Kyungsoo looked away and grabbed a rag to wipe down the counter.

“I don’t want in his pants!” Chanyeol argued. “I just want to show off my progress.”

“Your progress towards getting in his pants?” Sehun shot back.

Kyungsoo wanted to hide.

“Maybe you should worry about your own pants,” Chanyeol huffed.

“Is that really a comeback? Really?” Sehun rolled his eyes and wandered back towards the sink.

Kyungsoo bristled at the knowledge he was now practically alone with a shirtless Chanyeol. _It’s natural to be embarrassed_ , he told himself, _natural to be attracted to someone who looks like Chanyeol_ . _It doesn’t mean anything_ , he repeated in his mind.

“So what do you think, can you notice a difference?”

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Chanyeol step closer. “Yes, you um - much muscle,” Kyungsoo blurted out, praying he would put his shirt back on.

“Thanks! I’m drinking protein shakes now too,” he reported. “Do you want to feel them?”

Kyungsoo vigorously scrubbed the counter, not looking up. He could hear Sehun snort in amusement from the corner. Why had it been so hard to hear him when Kyungsoo wanted to, but so easy when he was dying of embarrassment?!

“No, I’m good,” Kyungsoo answered, his voice cracking.

He assumed Chanyeol was probably pouting but he wasn’t about to look. “Ah, maybe next time.”

Kyungsoo didn't stop scrubbing the table until Chanyeol had left the kitchen. He sucked in a deep breath, relieved but still flustered.

“Maybe you want to get in _his_ pants…” Sehun mused from his place by the sink.

Kyungsoo didn’t possess the mental fortitude to respond to Sehun’s words.

  


“It’s really good.” Kyungsoo licked the sauce off his fingers. He had made wings for the two of them after work, using the BBQ sauce he had received as payment a few days prior.

“Thank you,” Chanyeol beamed with pride.

Kyungsoo smiled back, feeling a tug in his chest at Chanyeol’s happiness. “What should we do tonight?”

“I was thinking we could play Diablo,” Chanyeol suggested.

They were sitting in Chanyeol’s apartment, Kyungsoo cross legged on the sofa. It wasn’t strange how comfortable he felt anymore, walking into Chanyeol’s apartment and plopping down on the couch.

“Sure.”

Chanyeol set his empty plate on the coffee table and got up to plug in his console.

Something occurred to Kyungsoo, something he wanted to ask about. “Are you sleeping better now? You said before you can’t sleep well.”

“Huh?” Chanyeol looked over his shoulder. “Ah, yeah. I mean it’s okay. It helps that we hang out until late for some reason.”

“Have you always been like this?” Kyungsoo inquired. He didn’t remember anything about insomnia noted in Chanyeol’s file.

“More or less,” Chanyeol explained. “What about you, how do you sleep?”

“I’ve never had a problem sleeping,” Kyungsoo answered. In fact it was fairly easy for him to doze off. His evening ritual was well set. A few hours of television, reading on his phone, and then bed. Or at least that is how it used to go before he had gone under cover.

Now he was up all hours of the night watching tv or talking with Chanyeol. And for some reason that fact didn’t bother him too much.

For the most part. Except for when Chanyeol said stupid things that made him squirm.  Things like…

“Of course, you get all the beauty sleep you need. It shows.”

Kyungsoo mumbled a “shut up” before averting his eyes to his plate of wings. He suddenly felt very warm.

 

 

The next night Kyungsoo finished cleaning the kitchen early. The place had been dead, Chanyeol mentioning something about a meeting the regulars were attending. Sehun didn’t even come in because of how slow it was.

“Do you want to play Diablo after work?” Kyungsoo asked Chanyeol when he walked into the kitchen to retrieve the last order of the evening.

“Uh, sorry. I can’t,” Chanyeol responded. “I have an old friend coming over.”

“Oh.” Kyungsoo frowned. “Okay, another time.”

“Yeah, another time.” Chanyeol flashed a smile.

Kyungsoo couldn't understand why he felt so upset the rest of the night, why he was so annoyed. Why he was so _disappointed_.

 

 

When he got home he went straight to bed, staring at the ceiling deep in thought. He was alone, it was quiet. Mundane. Boring. He should be happy, but he wasn’t.

_Do I really like hanging out with him that much?_ Kyungsoo asked himself.

He tossed and turned for most of the night, unable to figure out what was bothering him.

 

 

Kyungsoo leaned against the metal work table and stared into space. Why was it bothering him so much, the realization he liked spending time with Chanyeol?

“Wanna play pool?” Speaking of the devil.

Chanyeol walked into the kitchen, his arms full with dirty plates.

“You said you like to play pool. We haven’t yet.” Chanyeol rambled, handing the dirty dishes off to Sehun.

“You guys expect me to wash dishes while you play pool?” Sehun whined. “You know I have a lot of other things I could be doing.”

“I pay you to do dishes,” Chanyeol reminded him.

“Pool sounds nice,” Kyungsoo answered before he could overthink everything.

Chanyeol smiled widely. “Cool.”

  


“I’ve been going to the gym everyday. Can you tell?” Chanyeol asked, lining up his pool cue.

Kyungsoo feigned a smile. “Yeah, I can totally tell,” he lied. Chanyeol looked as lanky as ever, hidden under the big shirts he seemed to like. Where the man could even find such oversized shirts was a mystery, he was already so tall. At least he wasn’t taking his shirt off again.

Chanyeol beamed with pride. He took the shot, the balls ricocheting off the sides of the pool table. He was really good, Kyungsoo realized.

Chanyeol moved around the table, bending down in front of Kyungsoo to line up the next shot. Kyungsoo stepped aside but not before his eyes went to Chanyeol’s ass. He blushed and looked away. Why had he just checked out his ass?!

“Oh, I was going to tell you. Remember that guy, Lu Han?” Chanyeol continued lining up his cue.

“Yeah.”

“Turns out Minseok agreed to the engagement.” Chanyeol sunk another ball in the pocket. “Didn’t even stab him first.”

“How...sweet.” _This is why it is a problem. He thinks stuff like this is normal. He hangs out with criminals. I’m undercover._

But what if he wasn’t a gang affiliate? What if he was just a normal guy who owned a restaurant and collected Furbies and...Okay, Chanyeol would never be a _normal_ guy. But what if he wasn’t on the wrong side of the law?

_Maybe he isn’t on the wrong side of the law,_ Kyungsoo thought. He wasn’t pushing drugs, it had been an assumption on his part. Was letting a bunch of gangsters hang out at his place really illegal? _No, no am I trying to rationalize this? Am I trying to rationalize liking Chanyeol?_

“Your turn,” Chanyeol stepped aside.

When Kyungsoo moved to make his shot he brushed against the taller man, stilling for a moment. Their eyes met. Kyungsoo stared, unable to move even if his brain was screaming at him to step away. Chanyeol stared back, eyes dark. When he inched his face closer, Kyungsoo came crashing back down to reality.

“I need to go, I’m uh, tired.” Kyungsoo set his pool stick aside and rushed to leave before Chanyeol could ask him any questions.

 

 

A few days passed before Yifan, or Kris as he was known to the Five Star Gang, wandered into the restaurant. Kyungsoo spotted him during one of the rare moments he stepped out of the kitchen. He was thrilled to see his fellow detective, even more thrilled when an hour later Kris wandered into the kitchen to say hello.

“How’s it going?” the tall blonde man asked.

Kyungsoo shrugged. “Same old. Same old, you?”

“Okay,” Kris answered vaguely.

“Hey, want to come over tonight? We haven’t hung out in forever,” Kyungsoo asked. In reality they had never hung out. They had seen each other around the police station once or twice but beyond their made up friendship they had zero ties.

“Yeah, I’ll hang around until you’re off work,” Kris agreed, much to Kyungsoo’s relief.

  


“Do you ever try to rationalize them? Pretend they aren't all bad?” Kyungsoo blurted out the second Yifan drove away from the restaurant. Kyungsoo was seated in the passenger seat of Yifan’s black sports car.

“They aren't all bad. They’re still human, detective,” Yifan answered quickly. “They do bad things, which they need to pay the price for. But that doesn’t mean they are soulless, terrible creatures. They still have families, they have things they care about.”

Kyungsoo pursed his lips, considering his fellow undercover officer’s explanation.

“The key is knowing what your job is. We are here to get these people off the streets so they can’t hurt anymore people. But it’s natural to see both sides of them, we are pretending to be their friends after all,” Yifan explained.

Kyungsoo stared out the window, at the nearly deserted streets. It was almost midnight. “I’m horrible at this. I have no idea how you do it.”

Yifan laughed. “Me either, but it’s something I’m good at. Where do you live, anyway? I mean I think I know the building…”

“I don’t want to go home yet if that’s okay. Can we just drive around or park somewhere?” Kyungsoo didn’t feel like having this conversation in his apartment, where other officers would be listening in.

“Sure. We can drive around.”

They ended up parked near the river across town. They sat in silence for a few minutes, both men staring out into the darkness.

“So what is this all about?” Yifan finally asked. “Why the questions?”

Kyungsoo bit his bottom lip. How to explain…”It’s stupid. I feel stupid for even obsessing about it.”

“Tell me. No matter how stupid it is. We have to support each other, it is important you tell me if there is an issue.”

“I like the Phoenix, like as a friend” Kyungsoo admitted slowly, not willing to entertain how much he had wanted to kiss him a few nights prior. “And it bugs me. God, I feel like a teenager or something, this is the definition of a non-problem.”

“Go on.”

Kyungsoo dragged his hand through his hair, frustrated with himself. “I just, sometimes I think if things were different, you know, but they aren’t. And it bugs me that he makes me think this way when I haven’t even known him that long. Why am I like this?”

“Well….” Yifan started slowly. “I’m not a psychologist but it seems like you like him. And you can’t reconcile that with your job or his job so it is turning you into Molly Ringwald.”

Kyungsoo frowned at Yifan’s conclusion.

“You know, the Phoenix isn’t a bad guy. I’ve never heard the other guys mention him doing anything illegal,” Yifan continued. “Sure, he knows a bunch of bad people, but he isn’t in the gang.”

“He basically runs their clubhouse,” Kyungsoo reminded him.

“Yeah, and he makes a shit ton of money selling barbecue sauce to them. I can’t say I blame him,” Yifan pointed out. “It isn’t like he is even a target of the case, Detective Do. Being his friend, really being his friend, wouldn’t be the worst thing as long as you don’t jeopardize the case.”

Kyungsoo swallowed. Friend. If he wanted to be his friend. _What if he wanted more?_

“And when all his friends go to prison because of me?” Kyungsoo asked.

“Then he will either accept you or reject you. Look, I won’t lie and say it isn’t complicated, because it is. Only you can decide what you want to do knowing full well that when the truth comes out, if he learns of it, you may never see him again.” Yifan sighed. “It isn’t a good situation, but it isn’t the end of the world either. Just keep in mind what your job is and who he is, okay?”

“Thanks for talking with me,” Kyungsoo said quietly. “I needed it.”

“No problem. Anytime,” Yifan smiled at him.

 

 

Kyungsoo’s foot was on the top step, Yifan’s car halfway down the street, when he heard familiar voices nearing the building.

He ducked into the alcove near the front door, plastering himself to the side of the building, shielded by the lack of working lights on the rundown abode.

He strained to listen. It sounded like Sehun, but what would the dishwasher be doing in his neighborhood? And he was talking to someone who sounded vaguely like the neighbor who had brought Kyungsoo pot brownies.

So Sehun knew the druggie! Kyungsoo had a mind to curse both of them out. He quickly decided against it once he realized that Sehun would tell Chanyeol if he started shouting about the morality of drug use. He decided the best course of action was to remain where he was and dedicate himself to eavesdropping.

“Yeah, but it isn’t moving that quickly.”

“If it was anyone but you I’d be pissed,” Sehun said.

“Are you trying to tell me you _looovee_ me,” Junmyeon cooed.

Kyungsoo wanted to throw up in his mouth.

“No, I’m taking pity on the elderly,” Sehun responded.

“Right. Which is why you’re coming to my apartment right now.”

“Yep. Pity sex,” Sehun answered.

So neighbor guy and Sehun were a-maybe-thing? Interesting.

The pair walked to the door, Kyungsoo holding his breath and pressing himself as flat against the building as he could. He didn’t breath until they were inside the building, his presence going unnoticed.

“I am giving him shit for this tomorrow,” Kyungsoo muttered, waiting a few minutes before going inside.

  


Finding out a secret about Sehun turned out to be just what Kyungsoo needed to soothe his inner turmoil. He was so excited to shove it in Sehun’s face that he forgot all about Chanyeol.

He wasn’t normally someone who would flaunt a secret, or try to make someone feel  bad about who they were with. But Sehun had hit more than a few nerves when he refused to help Kyungsoo anytime he was swamped.

As was the routine, Sehun was already at the restaurant when Kyungsoo arrived. The chef put on a neutral expression, controlling the dizziness he felt bubbling in his chest.

Sehun was moving boxes in the back storeroom, his phone blasting 90s alternative music.

“So,” Kyungsoo leaned against the doorframe. “You and my neighbor.”

Sehun didn’t look up from where he was rearranging the boxes. “Who’s your neighbor?”

“Junmyeon. Weird guy.” Kyungsoo smiled.

“Never met him,” Sehun answered.

“B-but -” Kyungsoo bit his tongue. He couldn't say he was listening, creeping around in the dark, could he? He hadn’t considered that Sehun would flat out refuse that he even knew the man.

“The Phoenix was looking for you,” Sehun said.

Kyungsoo sighed. His problems returned full force. “Tell him I’m busy if he asks,” Kyungsoo muttered, a deep depression setting in.

 

 

_When he finds out who I am, he’ll hate me_ , Kyungsoo reminded himself. He watched Chanyeol as he arranged supplies on the shelf in the kitchen, hoisting up boxes Kyungsoo wasn’t tall enough to put away. _All his friends will be arrested, he’ll never speak to me again._

“Diablo tonight?” Chanyeol asked cheerfully.

“I can’t,” Kyungsoo answered, feeling a tightness in his chest. “Sorry.”

He turned back to the fryer, not wanting to see the predictable frown form on Chanyeol’s face.

 

 

Being alone was his thing. Always had been, but now he hated it. He made excuse after excuse to not hang out with Chanyeol, plodding back to his apartment to zone out watching tv and feeling like complete and utter shit. Feeling _lonely_.

He couldn’t understand how he had developed this much affection for someone in under a month. Why he missed Chanyeol now they weren’t hanging out. Undercover work was driving him insane, clearly.

Everything was driving him insane. He caught himself staring at Chanyeol when they were alone in the kitchen, his face flaming red when he realized what he was doing. He stopped himself from laughing when Chanyeol made stupid jokes, bit his tongue when Chanyeol tried to talk to him about stupid stuff they both liked.

“Hey chef, you constipated?” Sehun asked one evening, sensing the strange atmosphere.

Kyungsoo glared at the sassy dishwasher. For once Sehun showed common sense. He retreated back to the sink without another snarky comment.

  


“Is something wrong?” Chanyeol finally asked, getting the hint that Kyungsoo was avoiding him. It was closing time, the restaurant empty, they were the only two people in the place.

“No,” Kyungsoo lied. He finished wiping down the worktable, tossing the dirty rag in the wash bucket. He stilled when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Can we talk?” Chanyeol asked softly.

“Sure.” Kyungsoo gritted his teeth and turned around, leaning against the worktable. Chanyeol moved to stand across from him, back to the flat top grill. “What’s up?”

Chanyeol looked nervous, it took him a few seconds to begin speaking. “I miss you. I miss hanging out with you. If I made you uncomfortable or pissed you off just tell me, please.”

Kyungsoo shook his head. “I’m not mad.”

Chanyeol sighed. “Then why don’t you want to hang out?”

“I’ve been tired lately. That’s all.” He knew Chanyeol didn’t buy it but he didn’t press Kyungsoo for an honest answer. He stepped out of the kitchen, leaving Kyungsoo to stew in his own depression.

 

 

It was almost noon when Kyungsoo heard a knock on his apartment door. He answered the door while still wearing his pajamas, expecting it to be his drugged out neighbor or someone who got the wrong apartment.

It was Baekhyun, grinning from ear to ear. “Let’s go.”

“Go where?” Kyungsoo asked, confused.

“Home. We wrapped up everything this morning.”

Kyungsoo froze, hand holding the door open. “It’s over?”

“Yep. Now come on.”

  


To say that he had been blindsided would be an understatement. Kyungsoo had no inkling that the case was being wrapped up, Baekhyun hadn’t mentioned anything. He considered that this was probably by design, in case Kyungsoo inadvertently gave something away and alerted the gang.

Kyungsoo was debriefed at the station for most of the day, a detective he didn't know running through all of the questions, taking his statements, following department protocol as it pertained to helping an officer leave their undercover persona behind.

“You will be under protection from here on out in case the gang tries to retaliate,” the detective explained. “Police escort to and from work as well as a police officer stationed outside your home.”

“What?” Kyungsoo hadn’t been told that he would need guards after the job was done. “I didn’t even infiltrate the gang. I just planted bugs!”

“You worked closely with the gang leader, Detective Do. Your life is in danger now.”

Kyungsoo stared at the detective in confusion. “I did?”

The detective fished a photograph out of the manila folder on the table, pressing a picture towards Kyungsoo. “Oh Sehun. He took over the gang when his father died last year. Was running it from the diner where you were employed. He was effective at keeping a low profile, which is why it was so difficult to identify him.”

Kyungsoo paled. Shit. Who would have thought? He couldn’t believe it. The sassy dishwasher? He was the leader of the gang?! A memory came back to him. “Is there a Junmyeon involved?”

His druggie neighbor. He had seen him with Sehun. The detective flipped through the file. “Kim Junmyeon. He’s a small time drug dealer connected with the gang.”

“Shit,” Kyungsoo whispered, beyond shocked.

“We were able to discover some clues to the gang leader’s identity via the listening devices you planted but the hard evidence came from another undercover officer, one the feds sent in. He built an airtight case.”

“There was another officer?” Kyungsoo couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Yes. Park Chanyeol, deep cover agent for the last three years. We didn’t know he existed until the arrests were made, the federal agency had his true identity so well guarded we had no idea he was an agent.”

Kyungsoo was rendered speechless.

  


Days later, Kyungsoo was back at work, sitting at his boring desk job, clicking between Zane Grey novels and his caseload. To his coworkers he seemed calm, normal, his old self, but he was anything but.

He was still in shock. Park Chanyeol was a federal agent? The Furby loving, clumsy weirdo worked for the feds?!

He still couldn’t believe it. Everything that had happened in the last month took on a new light. Chanyeol low-key flirting with him, Chanyeol wanting to be his friend. Did the man not harbor the same guilt that Kyungsoo had been feeling? Did he not care that he was going to up and leave his life?

Or did he not know? Was he even aware who Kyungsoo was? Did he know that he was undercover? No, according to the department. Or at least on their end, the police department had no knowledge of the Fed’s case. The federal and the local branches not talking, nothing new.

It ate at him, the unanswered questions. He wanted to know, he wanted to see Chanyeol, to maybe kick him in the balls for tricking him.

But that was impossible. Baekhyun had told him so after a week had passed and Kyungsoo had mustered enough courage to bring the topic up.

“He’s a deep cover agent, Detective Do,” Baekhyun had answered. “The feds didn’t even want to acknowledge his existence until their hand was forced by the evidence he collected. They are keeping mum on his whereabouts, for his own safety.”

Kyungsoo nodded. There was no use arguing about it, no matter how much he wanted to.

  


Kyungsoo reconnected with In Sung a month later, his old friend asking him to come out and have dinner with him.  Kyungsoo had been reluctant to see him, knowing that his mentor would sense something was wrong.

He didn’t try to hide it once they were seated at their favorite restaurant, the officer’s guarding Kyungsoo a few booths away.

“There was a federal agent working the case too, but I didn’t know. I - we got close,” Kyungsoo reported, knowing he sounded as depressed as he felt.

“Do you regret taking the assignment?” In Sung questioned, making Kyungsoo think.

“No, I don’t,” Kyungsoo admitted. Even though he felt like shit, it had made him see things in a new light. Made him leave his comfort zone, experience something new. Interact with new people. Learn what a Furby was. As much as it sucked, it had been good for him in some way.

“Good. Then buck up, detective. Tomorrow is another day,” In Sung smiled, “And you never know what tomorrow holds.”

Kyungsoo sighed and nodded. As usual, In Sung was right.

  


Tomorrow happened to be a Saturday, which left Kyungsoo to lounge around his apartment in an old t-shirt and boxers, watching television and playing Diablo (he had caved in and bought it on an emotionally unstable whim a few weeks back).

The knock on his door occurred around noon. Unlike his undercover life, his real life left him to expect a plethora of people at his door. In Sung sometimes dropped in. A few friends he made back at the academy had an awful habit of popping in without calling first (which he hated, but whatever).

He opened the door expecting a friend. What he found instead was…

“Hi.” Park Chanyeol, his hair no longer a faded purple. He was dressed in slacks and a button down, a six pack of beer in his hands.

Kyungsoo kicked without thinking, making the taller man squirm to avoid the kick to his balls.

“Okay, okay, I deserve that!” Chanyeol yelped, moving out of kicking range.

Kyungsoo glared, a mess of emotions. He was happy to see Chanyeol, thrilled actually. His heart was thrumming hard in his chest. But he was angry too and had so many questions.

“Can I come in?” Chanyeol asked, holding the six pack over his crotch in case Kyungsoo tried to kick him again.

Kyungsoo fumed, but stepped aside, letting the federal agent into his apartment.

“So you don’t like Arnold,” was Chanyeol’s first remark upon seeing Kyungsoo's real, Schwarzenegger devoid apartment. “I really started to go to the gym because of that, you know.”

Kyungsoo shut the door and leaned against it. “Did you know who I was?”

“If I say yes will you kick me again?” Chanyeol asked, taking a step back.

“Maybe. Depends on what you say after that.” Kyungsoo folded his arms against his chest, waiting for an explanation.

Chanyeol set the beer on the coffee table and took a deep breath. “I knew you were undercover, working for the department. I know your name is Do Kyungsoo. I’m sorry but  I couldn’t say anything or it would jeopardize my own case.”

“So you flirted with me and tried to become my friend because ….”

“I like you,” Chanyeol admitted. “A lot. Hell, you even thought I was obsessed with Furbies and you still hung out with me. You have no idea how much I like you for that alone.”

“You aren’t obsessed with Furbies?” In Kyungsoo’s brain Chanyeol and the creepy toys had become so intertwined he couldn't separate them.

Chanyeol shook his head. “Nah. They were all hacked, recorded audio and video around the restaurant. They’re creepy as fuck, to be honest, no way would I collect those things.”

“Was anything you did or said true?” Kyungsoo shot back.

“I could ask you the same,” Chanyeol replied.

He had him there. They were both playing a part, both doing their jobs. “Touché,” Kyungsoo admitted defeat. “But Sehun-”

“He was a lot scarier than he looked. Hopefully he does his time and comes out a changed man. He’s too young to try to be his dad,” Chanyeol said. He suddenly noticed what was on Kyungsoo’s television, a paused game of Diablo. “You _do_ like to play Diablo!”

“Shut up.” Kyungsoo walked to the couch and sat down, picking up the controller.

“I switched departments, I’m no longer going undercover. I think after this I’ve had enough,” Chanyeol said, taking a seat on the far end of the couch. “Kyungsoo?”

Kyungsoo un-paused the game and started to play, ignoring the tug in his chest upon hearing his real name spill from Chanyeol’s lips. It was disorienting, but in a good way.

“Kyungsoo?”

“Kyungsoo?”

“Kyungsoo?”

“What?!” Kyungsoo answered, not looking away from the screen.

“Do you like me?”

“I haven’t kicked you again, have I?” Kyungsoo responded, sounding annoyed but secretly overjoyed. Park Chanyeol was sitting on his couch, a few feet away, and he wasn’t a criminal. He wasn’t pissed that Kyungsoo had turned in his criminal friends because they hadn’t been his friends at all. He was smiling and talking about liking him.

“True. Does that mean I can ask you out?” Chanyeol ventured.

Kyungsoo, lover of mundane things, of boredom and quiet and being alone, paused the game once again and tossed the controller on the floor. He moved swiftly, taking Chanyeol by surprise.

He was on the federal agent’s lap before Chanyeol could do anything about it, positive or negative. Kyungsoo smiled as he pressed their lips together, an unbearably light feeling stirring in his stomach.

It was entirely too chaste, the quick kiss, but both men were red in the face when they parted.

Chanyeol stared back at Kyungsoo with wide eyes.

“I’ll go out with you on one condition.” Kyungsoo whispered.

“What?”

“Give me the recipe for your barbecue sauce.”

“Deal,” Chanyeol readily agreed, smiling wider than Kyungsoo had ever seen.


End file.
